


Near Dark

by ArtsyAssassin



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyAssassin/pseuds/ArtsyAssassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can't help it when she moans a little, or starts to squirm against him, pushing back against the strain of clothes between them, because he feels so good, so splendid, so intoxicating… 5986</p>
            </blockquote>





	Near Dark

Lying next to him has always been one of the most wonderful and awarding feelings she has ever experienced. Whenever she feels his body against hers, his arms circling around her in a slow embrace, it makes her feel safe, beautiful, _wanted_. The subtle push of his hips makes her sigh, and when he breathes softly against the back of her neck, or kisses her shoulders, or draws her closer, she feels that wondrous, anxious sensation of anticipation. She knows what she wants to happen, and she thinks that he wants the same thing. Somehow, though, she's never quite sure, until she feels his fingertips brush over the soft skin of her breasts, gently and slowly massaging the buds of her nipples until they became hard and it's almost painful for her to take anymore. She can't help it when she moans a little, or starts to squirm against him, pushing back against the strain of clothes between them, because he feels so good, so splendid, so intoxicating.

He turns her around, and his eyes flutter closed, and so do hers, so that she can take him in only by his touch and by his smell. His hands move over and along her legs, very slowly, sending chills racing along her beaming skin. She reaches down to his waist, pulling intently on his belt and the buttons of his jeans, her fingers itching to hold him. One tug is all it takes, and she still doesn't have to open her eyes, because he nearly jumps into her hand, feeling warm and wet and stiff already between her fingers.

His fingers go between her legs, and even through her clothes, she's damp for want of him. It's slow and placid and wonderful, and he sighs and kisses her, his mouth warm and alluring, his lips tasting saccharine and sweaty. His hands go to the small of her back now, going higher, going lower, pausing to push her against him, even though her hand's in the way.

He stands up and turns her over, so she's on her back, and she doesn't know what he wants. He has a way of surprising her like that. But he puts her arms around his neck, lifting her up beneath her legs and back, and she pictures like she's some enchanted princess being carried by her knight in shining armor. It's silly and charming and cheesy, and she wouldn't ask him to do it again for that reason, as she knows he's doing it out of the way for her, but it arouses her nevertheless. Smirking amply, he takes her to the bed, lowering her head to the pillows.

He stands over her then, kicking off his jeans and pulling off his shirt, because he's hot and she's hot and it doesn't seem like they're going to stop anytime soon. Not that she wants that at all.

She smiles - almost laughs - and rolls over onto him, so that he's on his back. She kisses his lips, those hot, sizzling lips, and nibbles on his chin, and there's a chuckle from him. She kisses his shoulder, his chest, his stomach, and he lets out a little gasp. Her fingers hook under the lip of his pants and pull them down.

She looks up at him, pleased by the way the vulnerability in his smile contrasts with the tremors in his cock. A kiss, a lick, and a light breath on his head, and he sighs. He's not quite ready, so it's still easy for her to take him in her mouth, to run her tongue along the stiffening shaft, to run her fingers gently along the underside of his sac, a languid suckling that becomes more frantic with each of his moans, her head bobbing up and down and him hardening between her lips. There's the taste of salt in the back of her throat, and his hips buck a little. He's deeper now; she wants him deeper; she wants as much of him as she can take. Her mouth is rising and falling quickly now, and he's very hard and full, she knows he wants it she knows he wants to come she wants him so much-

And then she pulls away and kisses his lips, rising on her arms and lowering down on top of him, and both of their hands guide him into her like co-conspirators. Slipping onto him is the most incredible sensation she knows, the way that his muscles contract as those other lips close tightly around the head, the shaft, and finally the base of his cock. He reaches up and touches her breasts, runs his hands over her stomach, holds her legs as he swings up. And, oh, there's nothing like that, nothing like the thrust of his hips against her. But he's still just close, just on the edge, and there's still something they both want.

He pulls out, and her other lips suck and kiss along his retreat just like her mouth did, and now she's so wet for him and he feels so hard for her. They both moan, and then he's behind her, pushing her quickly onto her stomach, angling her just right. He slides up and inside very easily.

He moves slowly at first, and then the strokes start in earnest. Forward and up, back and forth, hastily, powerfully, hungrily. And he growls in her ear and it makes her want to scream. He strains against her, and she pushes down against him, forcing him deeper. There's so much to him and it feels so wonderful. He's thrusting, and she's pushing him further, her legs braced against his hips. She doesn't want him to stop, she begs him to keep going, to scream for her, to come for her….

A short cry - bitten back behind his lips - signals his climax, and he sighs and slips away from her. He lies down beside her, exhausted and exhilarated and beautiful. They're both wet from sweat and their satisfying pleasure juices, and it's all she can do to look into his drowsy greenish gray eyes and drown. His touch is very much feverish, his kiss is warm, and when she brushes her fingers against his spent manhood, it springs toward her fingers, and chuckle that he makes are the humid sounds to her ears.

So he holds her. He wraps his arms around her tired body, and she holds him close, and they sleep, and maybe dream.


End file.
